Marks Made Out Of Light
by 46captain46
Summary: There's no case this time, and Dean decides to just relax for a while...it doesn't really go as expected. Pre-Destiel.
Hey guys! I always loved the story behind the mark and always thought it was of great importance so I thought I should write something revolving around it. A huge thank you as always to my lovely beta ForeverShippingJohnlock. And of course, to MyLovelyMarauder for being such a good friend and always there for me motivating and supporting me. Now, off with the story!

Disclaimer: You already know I don't own anyone but the plot…..but the things I would do if I did….

It's one of these nights. When there's no case. When they can just relax for a few hours. Sam is seated on the couch, going from channel to channel in a vain attempt to find something interesting to busy himself with. He just wants a blank mind for a while, without the horrible images that constantly haunt him from the past. The stupid TV show is distracting him from the mess that is his life – the whole corrupted world in general really – and he's grateful.

Dean on the other hand is off wandering and trying to get himself laid. He's fooling everyone by saying that he just loves tits and curves and that's why he does it. Because he's Dean Winchester. In reality it's just a huge distraction. From the pain in his heart, the heavy weight of the world keeping him down, almost kneeling him to the ground, the guilt that threatens to consume him whole, the memories of a life not worth living. He's the only one who knows that. Well… not the only one… but he promised to himself that he wouldn't think about _that_ tonight. Not the night he's fighting tooth and nail to forget every damn thing.

He's headed to a bar, not very well-known, but who cares anyway, do they have whiskey? That's good enough for him. He puts one foot in front of the other, concentrating only on the way his legs move, trying to calm his heavy breathing, not yet rid of the horrible images and thoughts plaguing his mind. He stops in front of an old-looking bar. It seems to have been around for at least a few decades, not really taken care of, with worn windows and creaking doors, the sign that once probably spelled "The Pit" (oh the irony…) is no longer new and it's missing a few neon lights here and there resulting into an only half lit sign that read "T e it".

He gets in, determined to down a few beers and probably half a bottle of whiskey, just to make sure the alcohol would have the effect he hoped would. He wants to get drunk before doing something stupid that he knows – for the first time in his life when it came to these things – would regret later on. He sits in a wooden chair and sips his drink. Half an hour later he's pretty much wasted. The girl is pretty enough. Honey-colored hair, blue-grey eyes, although nothing compared to a certain pair of stunning blues that constantly clouds his mind and not even the deepest ocean could compare. Her body is slim and curved but he doesn't really care as the one he wants isn't the one he is tossing on the bed of the crappy motel room. The well-shaped body is barely enough to keep his mind from wandering and he desperately tries to seal it.

The girl, Laila or something, has her hands now wandering down Dean's chest and it makes him strangely uncomfortable and uneasy; goosebumps are forming on his skin, and not the good kind. He pushes it away, dismissing his body's reaction as unfamiliarity after so many months of hunting. But then she touches the handprint and suddenly he is burning, her touch so similar to hellfire, it becomes unbearable. The contact leaves burnt flesh behind and the pain is unimaginable as it feels like she touched something solely his and the angel's. He instantly freezes and he realizes, _he doesn't want to do this._ She barely takes notice and doesn't stop the gesture that isn't by any means calming. After a few seconds she asks, "Is this a birth mark? You know, you could have it removed, it's kinda ugly." And that's when he knows he's had enough.

He gets roughly away from her, quickly putting his t-shirt on, frantic to get away before he has a chance to strangle the clueless blond. She looks at him, confused and hurt, but he doesn't care at all as she literally just insulted – without knowing, but that doesn't make it better – a part of his soul, the part of him that is not so broken as the others.

He leaves the room and hurriedly pays for it before exiting the building. The cool air hits him in the face and for a moment he can breathe again. But when he manages to finally calm down, he is being crushed from all the memories and for some reason, what he almost did feels like betrayal. He half expects the angel to show up and look at him with those accusing eyes, seeing right through him, down to his very soul, the same soul he rebuilt.

His thoughts go back to the girl he left at the motel. He has started walking towards God knows where and his mind isn't as sealed as he would like it to be. How dare she? Who gave her the right to criticize it? And she called it ugly too! She couldn't possibly understand the importance of this handprint. No one could understand just how much the mark meant to Dean, and sometimes even the phrase 'profound bond' didn't fully describe it. It was so much more than that.

He feels so dirty, he feels like he just cheated or something. He doesn't understand right away why, but it will come to him in the next few days and it will hit him like a ton of bricks.

He eventually decides to go back to the motel he and Sam had gone for the night. But first, he needs another drink, he is still furious. As he pours the whiskey down his throat, trying to block the memories and his heart's pleas, he realizes one little thing.

This is the first time he has left the girl before actually doing anything.

Sooo, that's it guys! I hope you liked it and please review!

Byeeee,

46captain46


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